GO. PLAY ON.

Da Housecat exits the box

The dance music guru is all about `Felix' now

January 25, 2002|By Greg Kot, Tribune rock critic.

Trend-spotters tell us that an '80s revival is in full swing. But for Felix Stallings Jr., a.k.a. Felix da Housecat, the '80s never left.

"You listen to Timbaland or the Neptunes or the new No Doubt record, there is electronic music all over their stuff -- that '80s sound is coming really heavy," says the Chicago native, who has spent most of the last decade as a dance-music quadruple threat (producer, mixer, deejay and label owner) in Europe. His new album, "Kittenz and Thee Glitz" (Emperor Norton), is his best and the first to enjoy domestic release -- a synthesis of Euro-trash disco groove, new-wave attitude and Moog-pop melodicism that should appeal to martini-sippers and rave-hoppers alike.

"I always told people Europe was seven years ahead of us," Stallings says. "My other albums aren't that different, but I can see why people like this one. The sounds I used are gritty and low-fi, but the arranging and song structures are more mature and polished."

His "Housecat" moniker implies a commitment to the sound Chicago made famous, but Stallings says he's been trying to drop it. "The record company in Europe won't let me," he says. "When you hear `house' in the name, people instantly put me in a category. Not to sound arrogant, but I don't hear house music on this album. I think it's just electronic music."

During the mid-'80s Golden Age for the city's dance music, Stallings was a self-taught keyboardist smitten by the sounds of the Eurythmics, Depeche Mode and especially the "Purple Rain"-era Prince. His talents came to the attention of DJ Pierre, already an established force, and led to a classic debut single, Phantasy Club's "Phantasy Girl."

Encouraged by his parents to pursue an education, Stallings lost touch with Pierre until 1991, when he heard Pierre's "Generate Power" single and began to make his own music again. "I was studying broadcasting at Columbia College when Pierre called offering a one-way ticket to London," Stallings says. "I had sent him some music, and he liked it. It was finals week, and at first I said `no.' But he told me it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I went. It was the best move in my life."

In London, he gained an audition at William Orbit's dance label Guerilla Records, and Orbit released Stallings' "Thee Dawn," the first Felix da Housecat track. The Chicagoan's career has been thriving ever since, though he found his primary audience in Europe.

"I would make a record a week in England," he says. "When I got back to Chicago, I was `the guy from London.' I would go to Gramophone [the dance music record-store on Broadway] and they would say, `How long you in town?' And I'd have to tell them, `Man, I live here!'"

With the demise of the WBMX and WGCI "Hot Mix" shows, Chicago's homegrown talent inevitably had to go overseas to gain exposure. "Then along comes Daft Punk, who I've known since they were little kids," says Stallings of the French duo Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel De Homem Christo. "They saved Chicago, because all their influences were from here: Paul Johnson, DJ Sneak."

The international success of Daft Punk and Basement Jaxx, a British duo also steeped in Chicago's anything-goes mid-'80s sound, has made it possible for deejays such as Stallings to finally gain wider recognition in their home country.

But first he needed to make an album like "Kittenz and Thee Glitz." He collaborated with French femme fatale Miss Kittin on several tracks in a Swiss studio, which gives the album its air of early '80s decadence. Kittin's blase-vamp persona smolders through Felix da Housecat's glittering mecca of dancefloor grime, built on vintage keyboards, most of which he played himself. Live drum beats were sampled, then twisted and mangled to take them out of the realm of house's strict four-four thump. And for balance there is "Pray for a Star," a soul ballad sung by fellow Chicagoan Harrison Crump that evokes the glories of pre-"Thriller" Michael Jackson.

"I hated buying a record with just a bunch of house tracks on it," Stallings says. "I've done six albums and the last two or three have consciously tried to be more musical. I'm tired of four-four kick, the hi-hat, the handclaps -- all the same sounds you hear on everyone's 12-inch single. Working with people like Miss Kittin brought me back to my roots. They kept me from going the obvious route. That's why I want to get rid of `Felix da Housecat.' I want people to call me `Felix' -- that wipes out all the categories."